Welcome Home
by ChelsieSouloftheAbbey
Summary: The fourth main installment in the "After the Fall" universe. Checking in on our friends in Misty Cove as they negotiate marriages, becoming grandparents, and more. All main characters from AtF will feature at some point, although briefly. My entry for the unofficialdas9 series. Rating bumped up to M for violence and sexy times.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome to my unofficialdas9 entry, a Misty Cove/"After the Fall" sequel. I thank you all for the love you gave the teaser a week or two ago, and hope you've found your way here having read all of "After the Fall" and its two sequel stories, "Time Moves On" and "All In A Name." Information from those will be threaded throughout this future-set Chelsie story.**

 **For those of you who've already read the teaser, please feel free to skip down to the divider, where the rest of this first chapter continues.**

 **Much love to all of you for the love YOU'VE shown for this little American-set Chelsie world of mine. I've missed it more than I ever thought I would, and it's good to be back. And if you have a moment after reading, I'd love a wee review to hear what you thought.**

 **xxx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in Misty Cove. Elsie smiled as she drove down the winding country road, shifting in her seat to make her back more comfortable. After three days of beautiful and almost frightening thunderstorms over the ocean, her spine ached more than usual, making the sun and dry air quite welcome, indeed. She looked around at the long grasses blowing in the gentle breeze and the sunlight bouncing off of window panes, pond surfaces, and the occasional lawn ornament, and her heart felt a sense of peace. This was _home_. As if to prove her heart right, Andy was out in his yard and spotted her car, giving her a hearty wave and a shouted greeting, one which she returned in kind through her half-open window.

She turned at the familiar white fence, and as she accelerated again to reach the moderate speed limit, her heart rate quickened. It had been several weeks since she'd been to the farm, although that wasn't out of a lack of desire. Simply put, life had been getting in their way. _Grandparenting_ had been getting in their way, and neither Elsie nor Charles would complain one iota about _that_. But mixed with house-sitting for Thomas and Logan for two weeks, Juliet's visit, repair to the master bath, and the other general odds and ends of life, the time had sped by uncontrollably. It was why Elsie and Charles had so enthusiastically replied to Anna's note about coming by for a relaxing dinner on the patio by the pond - a dinner to which Beryl and Bill had also been invited. As Charles put it, it had been much too long since they'd seen their dearest friends.

She slowed once more when she neared the sign for the farm.

 _They've painted it,_ she thought, noting that its letters were now golden and shimmery instead of blue and dull. A broad smile lit up her face as she pulled into the driveway, seeing the empty paddock but knowing that once she parked and alighted from the vehicle, at least one horse would show up around the corner to greet her. It wouldn't be Scarlett - that much she knew. Her girl was much too old now to be running out to greet _anyone,_ and Elsie realized with a pang in her heart that it wouldn't be much longer before Scarlett wouldn't be occupying one of the stalls at the L'il Farm at all.

 _Twenty-six._ She heaved a deep sigh.

Still, she pushed that melancholy thought out of her mind as she put the truck in park and climbed out, giving the door a good slam to close it tightly. The dull red hue didn't pick up the sunlight as it once had when it was brand new, and the multitude of scratches and dings that made Charles cringe only made Elsie more determined than ever to keep the old thing. After all, it had been the first birthday gift her husband had ever given her, back in the early days when she still wasn't sure she'd be calling him her _husband_ at all.

Sure enough, as she crossed the driveway, one of Anna's newest acquisitions to the farm came out from the back door of the barn to greet her. Elsie grabbed a couple of carrots from the sack by the door and met the tall, white horse by the fence, where he lowered his head to nuzzle hers before accepting the treats she offered.

"My, my, Fred. Aren't you looking handsome today?" She reached up and stroked his mane, which must have just been brushed that morning. "Looking ready for a show soon, I think. Who's riding you these days? Is it Scotty, or maybe Lisa?"

"It's Rachel," came Anna's voice from several yards back, and Elsie turned swiftly in surprise.

"Anna!"

The younger woman pulled Elsie into a fierce hug, one which she returned just as tightly. "It's been much too long, dear. You're looking wonderful!"

"As are you," Anna replied with a laugh. "I think someone wants the rest of his carrots."

"Oh, quite right."

Anna joined her friend at the fence as they chatted about the farm, and she got Elsie caught up with information regarding clients and the contractors whom Anna and John had recently met with about fixing the barn's roof and water supply pipes. Over the years, Anna and John had become owners of the house outright, but Elsie still maintained the controlling share in the ownership of the farm. It had allowed them all a bit of financial freedom when the house was in a rent-to-own situation, and now that those payments had been completed, capital had been freed up to repair and expand the business aspect of the farm - hands-on equine therapy for children struggling with various psychological and physical needs - in addition to the Christmas tree farm that John still managed in the winter months. Business was booming on both ends, and the four friends were grateful for how easily it had all worked out.

"I'm sorry the boys aren't here," Anna said. "They'd have loved to have seen you."

"Well, let's just make sure it won't be another couple of months before we see you all again," Elsie replied. "Besides, it's wonderful that they wanted to spend some time with Mary's three."

"And how's Daisy?"

Elsie laughed. "About as one would expect: overtired, going crazy, and loving every second."

"Those first weeks are just so very hard," Anna said with a nod. "How I remember! John was wholly unprepared for how much energy a newborn just sucks right out of you."

"Isn't that the truth?" Elsie smiled fondly, remembering how hard it had been to get on with some semblance of her normal life when Juliet had come along.

They watched as Fred swished his tail, swatting at a couple of flies. He snorted, making Elsie laugh a bit.

"He's quite a character," Anna told her. "The kids just love him because he's absolutely immense, but he's really funny as well. Makes them laugh."

"Which is wonderful, of course." Elsie turned to look out over the property, leaning her back against the paddock fence. "It all looks great, Anna. Truly."

"Thanks! We've been so busy this year, but the painting and new fence have made a really big difference. And once the roof and water issues are sorted, we can add the new stalls to the barn, too."

Elsie took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of the freshly-cut grass mixed with the scent of the barn. It had always been a comfort to her, that smell, and today it didn't disappoint.

They stood and chatted for a bit longer, and then suddenly Anna quieted.

"What is it?" Elsie asked.

"I think you have a visitor," Anna replied with a hesitant smile. "I wondered when he'd show up."

"Charlie?" Elsie asked, assuming quite incorrectly that it was her husband who'd appeared behind her. It didn't even dawn on her until a few seconds after that she'd have heard his car approach. She turned around, and any other reply she might have had simply died in her throat.

Anna watched as Elsie paled, but before she had time to worry, she watched a broad smile cover her friend's entire face, saw the color return, and saw Elsie's eyes fill with tears.

"Anna," Elsie whispered. "Why didn't you say?"

"Well, I was hoping it would be a nice surprise."

Elsie stood still, patient and unafraid, as the horse who'd so recently appeared in the paddock slowly made his way to where she stood at the fence. She lifted her hands slowly, waiting for him to sniff them and deem her acceptable. As soon as he did, she placed her hands on his head, patted his nose, and allowed her fingertips to brush the familiar pale spot on his forehead. A small tear escaped her eye and in her emotionally overwhelmed state, all she could manage to utter was one whispered word ...

" _Star._ "

* * *

The sound of plates and cutlery clinked on the granite counter as Elsie and Bill handed the place settings across to Charles, who'd been charged with setting the patio table. Elsie brushed her fingers across the cool stone, smiling approvingly at the upgrades Anna and John had made to the kitchen. She turned her head and glanced at the double wall oven, the gleaming new refrigerator, and the new window treatment over the sink.

"It looks wonderful," Bill said, and Elsie turned to smile at him.

"It does. Last time I popped in, everything was torn apart and upside down. This is much nicer," she laughed.

"I'm sure. That must have been hard for you."

His comment took her aback, but after a moment, she nodded in agreement. "It was, rather. I didn't feel I had a right to feel anything about it by then, given that the house is all Anna and John's now, but it _was_ difficult to see so much that was different."

Bill reached over and squeezed her forearm gently. "It was a good thing you did, Elsie, making this place work for them. They've all thrived, and you and Charles have built a lovely home over on that beach. Change, sometimes, is worth it."

"What's all this about change?" Charles's voice boomed in the small space, and Elsie giggled.

"Nothing for you to worry about," she replied, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss to his chin. "Now, how's that table looking?"

"As if you have to ask," he huffed playfully. "Anna was telling me about Star."

Elsie nodded. "Yes, I'm so glad they were able to take him back. I'd made that bargain all those years ago, that if it didn't work out at his new place he'd always have a spot here, but I never in a million years imagined they'd have a barn fire. It was a miracle they all survived - animals _and_ humans." She shuddered.

"And that they found homes for all the other horses," Charles added, giving his wife a squeeze just as Anna bustled in, pushing everyone else out.

"All right then, everyone. It's been remodeled, but it's still a small kitchen. Go on out and pick your seats. I think John's started opening the wine."

The Carsons did as they were asked, taking seats across from Bill and Beryl at the Bateses' table. John handed over glasses of wine, then water, and added a ginger ale to his own place. As if they'd timed it perfectly, Anna began bringing out the dinner dishes just as he finished.

"Here we are," she announced, placing them in the table's center. Beryl cast an approving eye over everything before her: baked salmon, a homemade pilaf, and early peas and beans from the garden.

"It's not fancy," Anna told them, "but it's all local and fresh."

"The best kind of food," Beryl reassured her.

The group made small talk as dishes were passed around and filled, and then the room was filled with sounds of happy approval as each dish was tasted.

"So, Beryl," Elsie began, once they were partway into the meal. "What's the prognosis?" She tipped her head toward Beryl's face, upon which sat a very dark, very _large_ pair of unbecoming sunglasses. "For how much longer do you need to wear those?"

"She doesn't need to wear them _now,_ " Bill said quietly.

"Hmph," Beryl replied, turning her attention to Elsie. "I think two more days."

"But the doctor didn't recommend them, love," Bill reminded his wife. "You're just afraid is all."

"And what if I am? They're my eyes!"

Elsie hid her smirk behind her wine glass as she took a sip. "I think there's nothing wrong with being extra careful, even if cataract surgery _has_ come a long way. If it makes you feel better, that is. But you're seeing well?"

"Oh, it's as though I'd forgotten how _clear_ everything was!"

"All the better to see that granddaughter of yours, I bet," John added with a kind smile.

"Absolutely," Beryl replied. "She's such a good baby, too."

Conversation turned to talk about the five-month-old Laura, a topic about which everyone had something to say. Anna and John had experienced their first night babysitting for Daisy and William when the younger couple was out celebrating their anniversary with their parents. As the mother to only boys, Anna had appreciated having a little girl to watch over, and John had been reminded how nice it was to have a baby in the house again.

"But not _too_ nice," Anna teased, jabbing him in the side.

"I don't know," Charles teased back at her. "Three isn't really _that_ much more work than two."

"Says the man who didn't carry any of them," Elsie muttered.

John just laughed, his glance landing on one of his friends, then another, all around the table. He got up and refilled everyone's drinks, then raised his own glass.

"I'd like to propose a toast - to all of you," he said, and he smiled when Anna reached for his free hand and squeezed it gently. He swallowed a lump in his throat, took a deep breath, and continued. "For a very long time, back when it was just Mum and I, I never could have imagined having this - a beautiful, smart wife, two glorious children, and dear friends who have simply become family along the way. Here's to all of you, who've changed _my_ life so very much. I don't say much most of the time, and you'll not get this many words out of me again until maybe Christmas, but I am truly grateful for you all, especially since Mum's been gone."

"Hear, hear," Charles said, and everyone clinked their glasses together.

The rest of the dinner passed easily, and cleanup was handled by the men as the women got a fire going in the pit by the patio.

"That was nice of John," Elsie said quietly to Anna as she handed the younger woman a lighter torch.

"He's been missing Fiona so much," Anna replied, lighting the paper beneath the kindling. "Her birthday was last month, and it hit him very hard. And you know John - always something he's mulling in that great mind of his."

"I miss her, too," Elsie agreed. "What a kind, gentle soul she was. I'm glad your boys got to know her."

"Me, too."

They rejoined Beryl, who'd taken off her glasses since the sun began to set.

"Looking good," Elsie quipped.

"Well, I see no real danger when the sun's down, but I'll tell you one thing, Elsie: I'm not having that procedure ever again, so I'm taking good care of these eyes now."

The ladies settled into a comfortable quiet, looking out over the pond as a couple of ducks swam by.

Eventually, it was Anna who spoke. "It won't be the same with the condominiums going up back there," she said, pointing past the pond to the land which had, up until recently, been another horse farm.

"Thank goodness for the trees," Beryl said. "They'll help block the view, anyway."

Anna nodded. "I know. John wants to plant more, but I don't think it's worth it. Just a sign of the times."

"I remember when this was such a quiet little town," Elsie mused, twirling the wine in her glass. "So much has changed since I moved here."

"Not all bad, though," Beryl told her with a smile. She reached over and squeezed her best friend's hand. "Husbands, children, _grandchildren._ I'd never have imagined in my wildest dreams that we'd have children who married each other, that we'd be grandmothers together."

Elsie laughed. "The fact that I'm _married_ is still a marvel at times!"

The gentlemen joined their wives then, pulling chairs around the fire.

"Nicely done," Bill said, nodding approvingly at the fire.

"Thank you," Anna answered, and then she looked at John. "My kitchen is spotless, correct?"

He gave a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am."

Everyone laughed as the men settled into their seats, and Elsie gazed up at the sky as dusk began to settle in.

"I love it here," she murmured.

Charles just looked over at his wife, at how the sunlight bounced off of her auburn tresses, highlighting the silver threaded liberally through at her temples and her part.

"Me, too," he whispered, taking her hand. "Me, too."

 _tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: My thanks to all who returned for another chapter, and with immense gratitude to those who've encouraged me to continue. Special thanks to Hogwarts Duo, who is my biggest Misty Cove cheerleader and who took a peek at this for me.**

 **A brief update this week before the story really gets rolling ...**

 **xxx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

The soft breeze blew in the barely-opened window, and Daisy reached up absentmindedly and brushed a lock of her hair back over her shoulder to keep it from tickling her daughter's face. Laura gurgled as she unlatched, and Daisy expertly put the baby up on her shoulder, patting and rubbing her back until Laura gave a satisfactory burp and, as usual for her late-morning feeding, promptly fell asleep. Daisy shifted her a bit in order to clasp her bra and adjust her shirt, and she turned to smile when William walked into the room, his bare feet barely making a noise on the thick carpet.

He reached out and took the baby from his wife, then watched as she stood and stretched. The circles under Daisy's eyes were disappearing day by day, testament to the routine to which Laura had grown accustomed: a late-morning nap, another mid-afternoon, and eight solid hours of sleep at night. William had felt in the earliest days as though they'd never catch up on rest, but he, too, was finally feeling as though they'd turned that corner. Their families had been wonderful, Elsie and Beryl coming to relieve them for a few hours' sleep now and again, but Daisy had insisted they not rely on their parents _too_ much, and in hindsight William was glad. They'd learned by experience, by trial and error, and he and Daisy had only grown closer over the past year. They had friends whose marriages had grown difficult once a child was born, but the entire experience had only brought the young Masons closer together.

Daisy opened the antique wardrobe cabinet by Laura's crib and withdrew an item. She closed the door again, hung the gown from the small door handle, and smoothed down the lace and satin before adjusting a bow and a pale pink flower on the chest.

"I can't believe it's already here," she said quietly.

William placed Laura in her crib and joined Daisy by the wardrobe, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "I'm glad we found a church."

Daisy scowled and she felt something in her chest clench. "I know. But Reverend Smith really seemed to like Tommy and Logan. I just never thought in this day and age that would have been a problem, having godparents who were both the same gender."

"Well, we got it sorted. Laura can be christened, and you were even able to choose the readings you wanted."

She turned and smirked at him. "And we don't have to promise we'll go to church _every_ Sunday, either. So a win for you."

"I work on Sundays," he said, a gentle defensiveness in his voice. "Well … sometimes."

"I know you do," she replied kindly.

"Well, maybe we can start," William allowed. "Slowly. It might be nice to find a community where there are other parents our age, people we can talk to and children for Laura to get to know."

Daisy looked around their apartment's main living area: three baby blankets crumpled in the corner, dishes piled up in the kitchen sink, and the remote control they'd been looking for, sticking out from under the corner of the sofa.

"We could use some tips," she said, laughing. "I mean … this is pretty bad, Will."

She went to retrieve the remote as William turned on the baby monitor and brought it into the kitchen, where he started filling the sink with hot, soapy water.

"It's not unusual, though, is it?" He turned to face her, his eyes wide, and she laughed again.

"Not according to my Mam," she told him. "Or yours."

"But they've always had it together, haven't they? I can't imagine my mother _ever_ having dishes piled up in the sink!"

"Hey, nobody's perfect. Besides, we're not them - we're _us._ " She crossed the kitchen to place a kiss to his cheek. "And I like us."

"Well, you got there in the end," he said quietly, but his smile assuaged her fear before she could even begin to worry.

"I did." She swatted his behind, then padded up the staircase to the second floor. "Off to shower!"

"Enjoy!" he called after her, and then he shook his head as he began scrubbing their tea mugs from the morning, wondering for the hundredth time - but with a grin on his face - how he ever convinced Daisy to go on that first date just a few short years ago.

* * *

The christening was beautiful. The day had begun with a liberal amount of fog, but that had burned off by about nine o'clock and, by the time everyone arrived at the church just before eleven, it was humid and warm. Nonetheless, not even baby Laura fussed inside the air-conditioned church. She cooed when the water was placed over her head and reached her hand out for her Uncle Tommy, who put his forefinger out for her to grasp. As he and Logan pledged their commitment to helping to raise Laura, the small crowd who'd gathered sighed happily. It was the perfect moment for their entire family.

After the church service, everyone headed downstairs into the fellowship hall for a small reception. Goodies had been provided at no charge by the new owners of the Cheeky Devil. It was as a thank you to Daisy, who'd pop in on occasion when they needed an hour or two of help in the kitchen. She swore it was to get out of the house, but in all honesty it was that she knew they needed the assistance now and then and she didn't want to see the business, which had been the highlight of Beryl's professional life, fall to the ground in the new owners' first year.

Daisy stood by the doorway, fairly calm as she watched while Laura was passed from guest to guest, each of them _oohing_ and _aahing_ over the intricacy of the christening gown, the same one worn by Daisy years ago. She felt her Elsie's presence just before she saw or heard her, and her mind settled a bit more.

"It was a lovely service," Elsie said, reaching over and rubbing her girl on the back. "You and William did very well putting it all together."

"Thanks. Truth be told, I'm glad it's over."

Elsie turned to examine Daisy's face. "Are you? Why?"

"It was exhausting planning it all. I mean, it was fun and meaningful and all that, but some days I feel like everything I do that's not directly related to caring for Laura is … well, a waste of precious time."

"Well, that's understandable," Elsie allowed. "But you enjoy getting out and working now and again, don't you?"

"It is nice, sometimes, to be doing something a bit more productive, yes," Daisy admitted. "But I always feel terribly guilty when I get back home afterwards. It's just that I'd also feel guilty if the restaurant failed and I could have helped to prevent it. That Mrs. Bird is something else, you know? I'm surprised she even _asks_ for my help."

"Your dedication to Beryl is admirable," Elsie told her daughter. "And, I must say, I think it's good that you're doing other things. Becoming a mother is more than just holding and cuddling and loving on the baby all day, you know. At some point, you need to add in the balance - being a loving mother but also being other things. _Doing_ other things, whether it be working or planning something or even joining a playgroup. Doing more than just sitting at home and rocking the baby, you know? Don't lose yourself completely in that." She leaned over and kissed Daisy on the cheek. "Now, I'm going to go find your Papa before he eats every last one of those tiny sandwiches. You go and mingle, and let us know when you need us to start cleaning up."

"I will." Daisy smiled softly. "Thanks, Mam."

* * *

The next two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Misty Cove's Civic Days celebration, the town cookout, two days of torrential rain and thunderstorms, and Logan's birthday all made for a busy end to July. August crept in with a hazy, hot sunrise, with Charles and Elsie on the beach in front of their house, enjoying the view.

They sat in silence for almost half an hour, each lost in his or her own thoughts as they listened to the sound of the surf. Charles headed into the house once to refill their tea and coffee, and Elsie smiled her thanks when he returned, before her attention was drawn to a sea bird swooping down to the water's surface to scoop up its breakfast.

When he'd finished his second cup of coffee, Charles set the mug down in the sand and reached for his wife's hand, which she gave willingly. He grasped her fingers tightly before rubbing his thumb in slow, small circles over the backs of her knuckles. His other hand grasped the arm of the chair in a futile attempt to stop the soft tremor that plagued him most mornings.

"Feeling any better?" he asked, the deep tone of his voice blending with the sound of the incoming tide and making his wife's heart flutter just a little.

"A bit," she conceded. "Not much. Tired, mostly."

"That's to be expected. You'll need a nap later."

She turned to him. "Quite likely. I think I was up no fewer than six times." She scrunched her face and shook her head quickly as if trying to rid herself of awful images. "I can't shake those dreams, Charlie. They were horrible. I don't really even remember what they were about, but I kept waking up with this terrifying sense of fear."

"We've had a busy few weeks, love. Wonderful and full of joy, but busy. Perhaps your mind is a bit overloaded."

Elsie nibbled on the edge of her lip and looked back out over the sea, squinting a bit in the face of the sun, now fully risen over the ocean. She watched as a sleek white cloud traveled across the horizon.

"I don't know," she whispered eventually. "I just have this feeling that all of the joy we've been blessed with is about to come crashing down around our heads."

"That's rather doomsday of you," Charles observed. "That's normally my job, the worrying." His voice was calm, but his heart had clenched a bit at her words. Elsie was intuitive, in ways he'd learned over the years to just accept. "It's not like you, Els."

"I know," she replied. "It's just how I feel."

Charles pulled her hand toward his face and kissed her fingers. "Come on. Let's go in and make breakfast together, get your mind off all that. And then perhaps we'll take a drive up the coast today, hm?"

"Okay." She smiled at him and picked the empty mugs up off of the sand. "Maybe we can find a new stuffed horse for Laura. I have a feeling Daisy's Fred won't last much longer."

"Not if Laura keeps chewing on its nose," Charles chuckled. "Two teeth already coming in … unbelievable."

"She's growing too fast," Elsie sighed.

"That she is," her husband agreed. "But at least we're here to enjoy it."

 _tbc_

 **Please leave a review if you have a moment. xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Trigger warning for gun/mass shooting violence. *erases political diatribe***

 **Raising the rating to M for thematic situations and language. (I'll try to make it up further down the road with the** _ **other**_ **type M-rated stuff … like maybe next week if any of you come back after this.)**

 **Please leave a wee review if you can. They encourage me in all ways, and I'm nervous about this chapter anyhow. Eternal thanks to Hogwarts Duo for encouragement and feedback, from the beginning thoughts surrounding this months ago until her read-through this morning.**

 **Hugs,**

 **CSotA**

 **P.S. The times are important. P.P.S. Justice, Nordstrom, Old Navy, and Spencer's are all trademarks that I am merely using for reference. X**

* * *

 _ **Wednesday, January 14**_

 _ **7:26 p.m.**_

Thomas sighed, tired, as he eased his car into the parking spot and turned it off. He pocketed his keys after locking up, then turned his face upward to the sky, the deep blues and greys of which promised yet another front of thunderstorms to be passing through at any time. He wasn't bothered by that, given that he was going to be inside the mall in a matter of moments, but he hoped he wouldn't have to dash back to his car in the pouring rain like he had the _last_ time he'd forgotten his umbrella.

He smiled as he entered the mall, looked to the left, and spotted a fairly new store geared towards children and young teens - predominantly girls. There were things that glowed and sparkled in the window and an animatronic puppy in the doorway, one that was barking quite loudly in a very annoying, high-pitched voice. It all reminded him of growing up with Daisy, of their father's endless teasing about the store called Justiceand how it was the only place Daisy ever wanted to shop. He chuckled to himself as he stopped before this new one, snapped a quick photo, and texted it to Charles with a laughing emoji to serve as the accompanying message. But just as he dropped the phone in his pocket, it buzzed, and so he withdrew it again and wondered how his Papa could have gotten a reply out so fast.

Except it wasn't Charles. Thomas slid the icon over and put the phone to his year. "Hey, you."

Logan heard much more than a greeting in those two words. "Hey, love. You sound exhausted. Will you be home soon?"

"Not sure. Just got to the mall a minute ago."

Logan rolled his eyes and sat down on the sofa, eyeing the chicken casserole on the counter with a bit of longing as his stomach growled. "Paperwork again?"

Thomas began heading slowly down the mall walkway. "The life of a detective, don't you know?"

"As it happens, I _do_ know," Logan quipped.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted it off my plate for the weekend. And I shouldn't need more than half an hour here. Go ahead and eat without me. I'm heading to Spencer's for the joke gift, then I'll find her something decent at Nordstrom."

"Make sure the joke is extra naughty," Logan said with a laugh. "After what she got us for Christmas, Juliet deserves revenge. I want to watch her open something really awful in front of your parents and then have to explain what it was, just like she made us do."

"Mam almost wet herself laughing," Thomas said, chuckling. "I'll do my best. But seriously - have something to eat. I should be home a little after eight. I'll text when I'm leaving." He paused, then added, "You still need to pack, speaking of this weekend."

"Tee shirts and jeans, boxers and a toothbrush. I'm the scruffy one, remember? It's _you_ who needs a day and a half to plan six outfits for three days, dear. Just don't take that long picking out a toy."

"But _I've_ already finished packing," Thomas said proudly. "Okay, I'm here. Going to pop in and pick up the most disturbing sex toy they have. It's the actual gift I'll struggle with finding."

"Oh, please," Logan answered. "You'll find a stunning dress and it'll be the perfect size. Clothing is one thing you're very good at."

"Hardly the most important, though," Thomas said with a satisfied smirk.

Logan cleared his throat. "True. Do hurry home, handsome."

Thomas laughed. "Will do." He clicked the phone off and dropped it back in his pocket, then headed into the very back of Spencer's novelty and gift shop. He browsed around a bit, knowing that somewhere, the perfect gift was just waiting for Juliet.

He almost laughed when he spotted it. He reached to grab it, but his hand never made it to the package.

 _ **8:45 p.m.**_

Logan pressed his thumb against the phone's button, opening the home screen for probably the thousandth time in a half hour.

 _No message. What the actual fuck, Thomas?_ He glanced at the clock, then at his dirty bowl in the sink. An uncomfortable feeling was settling in the pit of his stomach, a sensation he'd become increasingly familiar with over the past several year or so. His mind, cheerleader for anxiety that it was, began the slideshow of faces from the police department where Thomas worked, flipping rapidly past the three female officers and settling a bit longer on the handsome, young men. As the images flitted through his thoughts, the more rational part of his mind insisted there was nothing to worry about, that Thomas wasn't like that, that it would only ever be just _them_ as they'd always promised one another …

He looked at the phone again, then opened his messages to read the last five he'd sent:

 _Are you on your way? – 8:12 p.m._

 _Hey - you must've found her something amazing. – 8:25 p.m._

 _Let me know when you're otw. I'll heat up your dinner. – 8:26 p.m._

 _Thomas? Are you even getting these? – 8:33 p.m._

 _I'm getting worried, babe. Where the hell are you? Call me. X – 8:40 p.m._

He clicked over to his voicemail again, as if a message had somehow materialized. Frustrated, he tossed his phone angrily onto the sofa before stomping into the kitchen, scrubbing out his bowl, and wrapping up the rest of their dinner, which had gone cold and started to dry out a bit as it sat on the counter. After tossing the dish into the fridge and changing the cat's water, he debated just putting something mindless on TV to distract himself, but he dismissed that thought almost instantly and instead stormed up to take a shower.

By the time he got to the top of the stairs, he felt like an idiot. Thomas was probably stuck in some stupidly long holiday returns line, the perfect dress for his sister in his hands. Logan smiled and chided himself for letting his suspicions get out of control. He stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower.

He never even heard the phone when it rang, because the sound was muffled by a cushion on the couch downstairs.

 _ **8:10 p.m.**_

Charles hummed against Elsie's lips, reluctant to break away. He loved these moments they shared, the small, domestic scenes that crept into their lives - like a stolen kiss when he was supposed to be rinsing the dishes before loading the dishwasher. She'd snuck up on him, swatted his behind, then pulled him down for a deep kiss when he'd turned around in surprise.

Eventually, it was Elsie who ended it, leaning back and staring into his eyes, which had grown a shade darker.

"Maybe I'll do the dishes _every_ night." He was teasing, but the gravely sound of his voice belied a deeper emotion.

"That's my plan," she volleyed. "Thanks for taking care of that tonight."

"You had a long day with Laura here," Charles reminded her. "I figured a hot bath would do you good."

"On the heels of your spectacular dinner, it was the perfect thing," she agreed. "Now, why don't you go up and change, and I'll finish here?"

"Pour me a drink?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Of course. Do you care if you miss the beginning?"

"Not particularly," Charles replied, already heading up the stairs. "One of these nights, maybe you can manage to actually watch Jeopardy when it airs instead of via DVR."

Elsie chuckled as she headed into the living room with their drinks. He wasn't wrong; she rarely had dinner ready before seven or seven thirty, and he was no better on the nights when it was his turn. And despite the fact that it was just the two of them, neither could bring themselves to eat in the living room, choosing instead to sit close around the corner of the table, running through how they spent their days and enjoying some time together.

She deposited the drinks on the table that rested between their chairs, then tucked herself into her seat, powered up her footrest, and turned the TV on. But before she could manage to switch to her set of recorded shows, her attention was captured by some kind of special news broadcast. Her brow furrowed, and her eyes widened as she read the tape at the bottom and saw the fear on the newscasters' faces. After a moment, a variety of other images started to appear on the screen.

"Oh, my god," she whispered. "Charles. _Charlie!_ Come here, quickly!"

He hurried down the stairs, pajama pants on but his tee shirt still in his hand. "Elsie? Are you all-"

But she didn't let him finish. "Shh. Charlie, _look._ " She pointed at the television, and her hand was shaking.

"What the …?" He plopped down in his chair, mouth agape. "That's the mall, Elsie. _Our_ mall."

"I know."

They stared in silence at the screen, and the words at the bottom continued to assault them:

 _Breaking News: Multiple shots fired at local shopping mall. Area neighborhoods on lockdown._

"... bringing you more information as it comes in," one newscaster was saying. Her voice shook, and she continued to read her teleprompter, but Elsie could barely internalize what she was saying. Charles, on the other hand, was hyper-focused on each syllable. "Again, we have multiple reports of shots fired at a large shopping mall in downtown Portland. Area neighborhoods are in lockdown, and local authorities are on the scene. We'll bring you more details as they become available …"

The co-anchor began to speak, but Charles turned his attention to his wife, who was visibly shaking. All of a sudden, the penny dropped.

"Oh, shit," he whispered uncharacteristically, and he reached out and took Elsie's hand, which she gave him willingly so she could squeeze his fingers. "Thomas … He sent me that photo tonight - he's _there._ "

Elsie gulped, a tear fell down her face, and she nodded.

Charles got up suddenly and retrieved his phone from the kitchen counter, then returned to the living room.

"Charlie?"

He put the phone to his ear, waiting. "Voicemail," he announced.

"Try Logan," she suggested, but Charles was one step ahead of her.

"It's ringing," he said after a moment, waiting until the voicemail picked up. "Logan? It's Charles. We've just seen the news. Please call us when you get this. We're a bit worried is all, and Tommy isn't answering his phone. Thanks." He hung up, then turned to Elsie, who'd begun to cry in earnest.

"Els?"

She stood up, then shook her head as he drew her into his arms.

"What is it?"

She looked up at him. "You called him 'Tommy,'" she said.

He reached up and brushed at her tears. "I know," he whispered. "I'm frightened, Elsie. My god, what if something happened to him?"

"He'll call," she said after a moment.

They stood silently for a few more seconds, and then a horrible thought assaulted Charles's mind.

 _Unless he can't._

 _ **7:31 p.m.**_

The first one was like a distant _pop_ sound, and Thomas's mind almost didn't register what it was. When he finally did, his instinct was to hurl himself backward into the corner behind him, crouch down, and reach into his jacket for his sidepiece. But his hand rested on the handle, waiting and watching as the people around him reacted.

"What was that?"

"Was that a _gunshot?_ "

"Let's get out of here …"

A glance at the person working behind the counter told Thomas all he needed to know: teenager, male, scared, apparently working alone. The kid turned toward him then and Thomas met his gaze and quickly slid his badge shield out of his jacket pocket and flashed it at him. A finger placed over his own lips indicated to the employee not to mention the presence of the police, and the kid nodded.

 _Kid,_ Thomas thought. _He's maybe ten years younger than me._

That's when all hell broke loose. There were four more audible gunshots, and they were closer than the first. Thomas tried to focus on those sounds now instead of the accompanying screaming and shouting, tried to determine in which direction the shooter ( _Shooters?_ he wondered, not sure …) was moving.

"Everybody stop!"

Thomas moved as others in the store (and, from what he could see in his line of vision into the mall, everyone outside) froze, tossing himself into the corner by the register and staying crouched down, out of sight of anyone else in the store. He blessed his luck that he was alone in that area, that no one was there who might give away his position, his mere _existence,_ as it bought him some time. He heard no other voices, and had to assume the man who'd just shouted was the shooter.

One final shot, followed by a scream, was so much closer than the others that Thomas knew it was only a matter of seconds before the gunman would be in front of Spencer's itself. He ran through the mental list he'd begun as soon as he'd entered the mall, a habit of his from his childhood - _four storefronts to the main entrance, rear exit ten paces from where I stand, probably only the kid at the counter working here, mall security guard hadn't been seen doing his circut yet, fewer than fifty people in the immediate area ..._ His smartwatch buzzed and he glanced at it in horror - the buzz had sounded so loud in what was now a store so quiet that Thomas could hear the yapping dog toy three storefronts down - and saw an incoming text from Logan:

 _Love u xx_

He checked the time - _7:34_ \- before powering the watch off and then quickly sliding his hand into his jeans pocket to silence his phone. Five seconds were eaten up as he glanced almost longingly at the rear exit of the store, which Thomas knew would lead to the parking lot outside and, he thought immediately afterward, set off an emergency exit alarm. He turned his attention back to the store itself and then slid his pistol out of the holster, disengage the safety, and slowly peered over the countertop.

The first thing visible in the mall was a dark pool of red, and Thomas's heart sank as the thought _Please don't let it be a child_ flashed through his mind. He knew it shouldn't matter, that it was a person no matter what, but he couldn't help it. Tucked inside of every detective was still - Thomas hoped - a human being.

There were four customers still in the store, and they'd all spotted him now. Two were hiding behind a tower covered in merchandise, and he quickly motioned to the other two standing out in the open to hide, which they did. They were blissfully silent and quick, which was a rarity for which Thomas was thankful. He flashed his badge at them, took a deep breath, and headed for the entrance to the store.

He wasn't sure quite what to expect, but when he peered around the doorway, the last thing he thought he'd see was _virtually no one …_ but that's what met his gaze. In his peripheral vision was the body on the floor from which the pool of crimson had come. He listened carefully and looked up and down the mall, heard and saw no one at all, and made his way quickly to the body, reaching down to check the man's pulse. A quick glance told him the man was hefty, about six feet tall, and probably in his sixties, and a touch to his neck told him the man was dead. Thomas assumed he had probably died instantly, and he did a quick calculation as he noticed two bullet wounds in the man's back, realizing there were at least four more shots fired that could have hit more people.

When he stood again to duck back into the store, his heart pounded forcefully, and he internalized the fact that the poor man in the mall had been shot while running _away from_ the shooter.

 _Or shooters,_ he reminded himself. _There could be others._

It wasn't likely, though. There had been no other shouts that he'd heard, no evidence that there had been several shooters firing wildly, no random bullet marks on walls or the floor or even in the mall kiosk. The shots themselves had sounded like pistol shots, judging from the lack of rapidity he'd heard during the firing, meaning that if it was only one shooter, and he or she only had one gun, there was a possibility they had at least ten shots remaining in the magazine.

"Help!"

Thomas's head snapped up in surprise. He heard the pounding footsteps immediately after the shouted plea, and peered into the mall again just in time to see the runner skid past Spencer's, stop, and turn to run inside upon seeing Thomas.

"You have to help me," the young man gasped. "My girlfriend … He shot my girlfriend."

"Do you know who he is?" Thomas asked, but the man shook his head. "Where?"

"The Yankee Candle place," he whispered. "What are you, a cop or something?" He glanced at the Glock, and Thomas nodded.

"Yeah, off duty. Go out back and hide."

"You'll go after her, right? She isn't dead but she's bleeding a lot." The man started to cry, and Thomas reached over and squeezed his arm and nodded.

"Go. Hide, and don't make any noise. Do you have a phone?"

"Yeah."

"Text someone you trust to call 911. Do _not_ make a phone call and chance being heard."

"Okay. I should've done that right away …"

"No, it's fine. Get hidden, then do it now."

And, with that, Thomas headed out into the mall. It was still barren, and he walked swiftly and silently in the direction of the candle store. He was so glad he'd been here recently to do some Christmas shopping; otherwise, he'd never have known where it was. He ducked into each storefront he saw and noted how empty the entire place seemed. It appeared that most people had managed to flee, and it made him wonder why the police hadn't already arrived. Surely by now a hundred people had called them?

A sound coming from around the corner forced him to duck into a wireless phone store. Hiding behind a display, he peered out just in time to see a young woman - the girlfriend, he presumed - stagger down the mall. He waited until she was just near him and reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the store and covering her mouth so she couldn't scream - either in terror, or in pain.

"I'm a cop," he whispered immediately, and she relaxed and began to cry silently. "What's your name?"

"Angie," she whispered. "My boyfriend -"

"Found me," Thomas interrupted her. "I was looking for you. Where were you hit?"

"My side. I'm okay, but at first I didn't think I could walk."

"That's the shock. Is he still at the candle place?"

She shook her head. "No. He ran out, down towards Old Navy."

"Okay. You stay here." He took off the light scarf he was wearing and folded it into a thick rectangle. "Pull up your shirt and put some pressure on that wound. Your boyfriend - what's his name?"

"Adam."

"Adam is getting someone to call the police. They should be here any minute. Did you see anyone else who was injured?"

She nodded. "An old lady, in Yankee, and I think someone else."

 _Fuck._

"Okay. There's an exit in the back of this store. I don't think it's alarmed, because it heads to the loading dock. If you can get out, do so. If not, there's a bathroom in that corridor - lock yourself inside. It's a cinder-block restroom area; no one's shooting his way into _that."_

She took the scarf and did as she was told, no questions asked, and Thomas turned and headed back into the mall, pistol at the ready as he hugged one wall in an attempt to draw less attention to his movements.

"Hey, you! Where'd you come from?"

Thomas turned around just in time to see the shooter - whom he identified as a teenager with red hair, acne, and quite nice clothing - aim his gun and pull the trigger. Surprise alone caused Thomas to stagger and fall back against the wall, but not before he got off two rounds of his own. He'd felt the bullet pierce the front of his arm, and he was pretty sure it shattered a bone. Grabbing his arm, he ran for the same corridor he'd just sent Angie down, but his line of vision blurred when he was reaching for the door.

She'd blocked it, somehow, from the other side. He couldn't get through.

Just before blacking out completely, Thomas felt the phone in his pocket vibrate.

 _ **9:17 p.m.**_

Elsie jumped when her phone buzzed on the table, and she snatched it up immediately and answered it.

"Logan! Oh, my god, what's going on?"

"I'm on my way to the hospital."

"The _hospital?_ " She looked at Charles, holding out her hand for him to grasp. "Logan …"

She heard Logan swallow and sniffle before answering in a wavering voice. "I'm so sorry, I didn't get your message til a minute or two ago. I was in the shower." He paused. "Thomas was shot in the arm, but I think he'll be okay. He told them to call me, so he was awake and alert."

"Thank god," she breathed, then she looked at Charles. "He's been shot, but Logan thinks he'll be all right."

"Tell him we'll meet him there," Charles instructed.

"We'll be on our way in five minutes," Elsie said to Logan. "Let us know if anything changes. I'll have my phone in the palm of my hand."

"Thanks," Logan said. "I'll see you there." He pressed the button on his steering wheel to end the call and focused on the road before him. It was a beautiful night that was supposed to have been the beginning of a beautiful weekend away. He wiped a tear from his face as he drove, thankful for the people who'd become the best parents he'd ever had. He couldn't wait to see them, to have someone to lean on after the horrible phone call that had come in from … someone. He couldn't even remember whom.

" _Is this Logan Black?"_

" _Barrow-Black, yes. Who's calling?"_

 _A pause. "Is your husband Thomas Barrow-Black?"_

 _Logan's heart sank. "Yes." It had come out as a whisper._

" _I'm calling from Maine Med … There was a shooting …"_

 ***o*o*o***

Elsie scooted closer to Charles as he drove, wrapping her arms around his and hugging him as tightly as she dared.

"He sounded horrible," she said after a moment.

"At least he can get there quickly," Charles replied quietly, half his mind back on that horrible time years ago when Elsie had fallen from the horse with only Daisy there to help her, him all the way in London and unable to do a thing. "Do you think he's all right to drive?"

"I'm sure he is. They don't live far. They did tell him on the phone that Thomas was awake and asking for him."

"The benefits of marriage," Charles replied, still partially trapped in that horrible memory.

They rode almost the rest of the way in silence, but his wife's touch and presence soothed Charles's tremor a bit and served to calm him before they arrived.

"It's just up there," she said, pointing the the Emergency parking.

"I know. I remember." Charles pulled into a spot and they were out of the car in a flash, practically running to the door. As soon as they were through, Elsie ran straight for her son-in-law, who wrapped her in a tight hug. The moment she smelled Thomas's cologne on Logan's shoulder, she broke down in his arms.

"He's all right," Logan said soothingly, rubbing her back. "Elsie? He's okay. Clean wound, bandaged up, and swearing like a sailor, but he's going to be _fine._ "

Logan looked over to Charles for help and was only half-surprised to see tears on his face as well.

"May we see him?" he asked, but Logan shook his head.

"Not yet - that's why I'm out here, actually. They kicked me out when half the department arrived."

Elsie lifted her head and turned a bit, seeing half a dozen officers also milling about the waiting area. One of them was approaching them, and Elsie saw a cup of tea in one of her hands and a coffee in the other.

"I'm not sure if you remember me," the officer said, but Elsie shook her head and gathered her wits a bit as she moved away from Logan to take the proffered cups.

"Nonsense," she replied to the young woman. "You're Stella Martin. You were a couple years behind Tommy." She chuckled, then added, "Thomas."

Stella laughed. "You really do remember us all, don't you?" She leaned in closer and whispered, "He's still 'Tommy' to me, too, but if I call him that in front of everyone else, I catch hell for it."

"I'm sure!" Elsie laughed, and handed the coffee to Charles, who'd appeared by her side, and Stella turned her attention to him.

"Detective Stella Martin," she said, offering her hand and shaking his firmly.

"Charles Carson," he replied. "Thanks for the coffee. You're all still waiting to see Thomas?"

"We are, sir, but we can wait. The Chief will be finished in there with the IA guys in about ten more minutes, then you two are at the head of the line."

"Thank you," Elsie said, sipping her tea. "And thanks for _this._ "

"I hope it's all right," Stella replied. "They didn't have much over there." She deposited her own cup in the trash. "Why don't you have a seat, and Logan can continue filling you in?"

As Elsie and Charles headed to a small sofa in the corner, where Logan was already sitting, Charles asked quietly, "How'd she know to bring you tea?"

"Oh, we go way back, Miss Martin and I," Elsie explained. "She was forever in my office, and I always had the electric kettle on."

"Funny she'd end up working with Tommy," he said.

"Not really," Elsie replied. "She comes from three generations of police officers. First female in her family at the Academy, though."

"Good on her."

They sat and chatted with Logan for a bit, but Elsie was antsy. She sipped at the tea, grateful for the green tag which told her it was decaffeinated; her entire system was on high alert and she didn't think she'd ever sleep again, so that was a small comfort.

When the Chief and two other men entered the waiting area, Logan and the Carsons stood as Thomas's co-workers gathered around them.

"The doctor said two at a time," the Chief told them, and then he turned his attentions to Elsie and Charles. "Chief Rob Simmons," he said by way of introduction, and they nodded at him. "Your son is very, very brave man, Mr. and Mrs. Carson. He saved at least one woman's life, and goodness knows how many others who were able to get away."

"And the person responsible for attacking him?" Charles's voice was barely a whisper.

"Dead on the scene. I'm not even sure _I_ could have aimed that steadily or shot that accurately after having been shot, and I've been doing this for thirty-five years."

"Thank you," Elsie said. "That's not quite right, but you know what I mean. We can see him now?"

"Absolutely, and I do know what you mean. Your son is a hero, ma'am, and he'll be receiving a commendation from the city once this all clears up a bit more. By the time on-duty officers could even respond, he'd already taken care of the situation."*

"The 'situation,'" Charles said. "What an awful understatement."

"We have to wait until forensics can give us the evidence we need to prove Detective Barrow-Black's story, but with the eyewitnesses we've already interviewed, it's a done deal. Three people saw what went down between your son and the shooter, and dozens more can account for all the other people injured and killed."

"More people died?" Elsie looked at him in horror. "How many?"

"Two," the Chief told her, "although I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak to the press about any of this until we've made a statement."

"Oh, have no fear, Chief," Elsie told him. "We don't plan to ever speak to the press about anything, believe me."

Chief Simmons looked at them both, remembering what he'd read in Detective Barrow-Black's file earlier that day. "No," he said quietly, "I suppose you wouldn't, at that."

Thomas didn't think he'd cry again after breaking down when Logan arrived, but one look at his parents did him in completely. It was awkward with his arm bandaged and immobilized, but Elsie found a way to lean in and pull him into a hug nonetheless, and then Charles managed to come behind her and hold them both.

"Tommy," Elsie told him, but he cut her off.

"I'm fine, Mam," he said. "Really."

"You're not 'fine,' young man," she replied sternly through her emotion. "You have a hole in your arm and a shattered humerus."

"Besides that."

"Don't argue with your mother, son," Charles advised.

"I know," he said. "What did you tell the others?"

"Daisy was asleep when we called earlier," she said, "so I told William not to wake her. They can't bring the baby here anyhow because she's already recovering from a cold and it's best not to expose her to any more germs. They'll take it in turns to visit with you tomorrow. Juliet wanted to drive down but your father managed to get her to wait. She started going on about being guilty because you were there shopping for _her,_ but that's nonsense and we told her as much. Tommy, if you hadn't been there …"

"I'd not have been hurt," he finished for her, but she shook her head.

"No, that's not what I meant." She reached up and cupped his cheek, then leaned in and placed a kiss to his forehead. "Son, you saved so many people. There's a young man in the waiting area who says you're the reason they're all alive, that you saved his girlfriend - whom I think will be his fiancée before the week is out - and a load of other people from that … that … _madman._ "

"It's my job," he said simply. "And that 'madman,' as you called him, was nineteen years old." Thomas shook his head. "I don't get it."

"And you may never understand," Charles said. "What's important is that you get the recovery time and care _you_ need, and then we worry about the rest."

Thomas nodded. "I'll be in here for a couple of days, I think, then quite a while at home. Logan will go mad with me underfoot all the time."

Elsie thought of her son-in-law still in the waiting room, of the nervous energy flowing through him that she knew would ebb as soon as he was in the seat she currently occupied by Thomas's bed.

"Oh, I don't know about that," she said. "Somehow, I think it'll all work out just fine."

 _tbc_

* * *

 **The Maine Mall is an actual shopping center in South Portland, Maine. I didn't want to use that specific one, or locate it exactly there, as no event like this that I know of has ever happened there. But if you're familiar with the area, I wanted to mention that. X**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This one just Did. Not. Want. To. Come. Together. OMG! Here's a little check-in, and a bit of a surprise (or, if you know me personally, probably NOT A SURPRISE AT ALL). LOL - you decide. Not beta'd, although quickly proofread, so please pardon any glaring errors you might come across.**

 **Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your kind words keep me going after each and every chapter, but particularly for that one. I know it was rough, but from here on out we're pretty fluffy, indeed. xxx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **February 14**_

"Good morning, birthday boy," Elsie whispered into her husband's ear, and she nipped at the lobe.

"Elsie?" Charles mumbled. "What time is it?"

She didn't reply, and he shivered as her hand brushed over his stomach and her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his pajamas. She'd woken him from a sound sleep, but suddenly he found himself becoming more _awake_ by the second.

"I'll never tire of how that feels," he said, his voice gravelly. He reached out to her and pulled her closer to his side as she continued to caress him, varying her touch from barely there to a gentle squeeze.

"Right where I want you," she said after a few moments, and she knelt up on the bed, steadying herself on his shoulder, and slipped off her nightgown.

"My hand," he whispered sadly, but she paid him no mind.

"You know we can work around that," she replied, motioning for him to sit up against the headboard. He did as she asked and then held her hips as straddled his legs.

She moaned when he slid his hands up her sides and brushed his palms over her breasts, squeezing them gently before leaning forward to lavish them with his tongue. Her hair brushed his legs when she threw her head back, and he slipped a hand between them, smiling as she whimpered at his touch.

"Charlie," she said after a few moments, and she moved and tugged at his shorts. "Off. Now."

He tugged them off with her help, and before he knew it she was right back where she started, one hand holding his shoulder for balance and the other reaching for him, easing his body gently into her own as her forehead touched his.

Outside, a gust of wind whipped sand and a bit of dusty snow against their porch, and the tide swelled. But inside, in the sanctuary of their bedroom, neither noticed.

 **o*o*o*o**

Logan expertly flipped another pancake onto the platter beside the stove, and he smiled as he heard Thomas's steps growing louder. He waited for the familiar touch, the arm around his waist, but the kiss to his bare shoulder surprised him, and he tipped his head to the side as his husband placed several more long, lingering kisses below his ear.

"You really shouldn't cook without a shirt on," Thomas admonished, half-joking. "Could get burned."

"I'm being extra careful. We can't afford for us both to be out of commission."

"Hey …" Thomas frowned. "That's not very kind. I'm doing what I can."

Logan turned and kissed him full on the lips. "Stand down, Detective. I was only teasing." He quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "I'd say last night is proof enough that you're doing quite well, indeed."

Thomas laughed and then pulled Logan even closer, sighing happily as he buried his face in Logan's neck once again. "I'm glad you approved."

"As if you had any doubts."

They stood like that for a minute, until Logan pulled back and cupped his husband's face in his hand. "I love you, you know." His thumb brushed over Thomas's cheek, and Thomas smiled softly.

"Love you, too. And I'm starving, so I'm going to leave you alone and wait patiently."

Logan's laugh was light and happy. "Sure. You. _Patient._ Yeah …"

Thomas lobbed a kitchen towel at him, but he batted it to the floor before it could land on the food.

"You shouldn't throw towels in the kitchen when the stove is on," he called after Thomas, who was hastily retreating. "Could burn something."

Thomas shook his head as he made his way up the hall to feed the cat. Her sleek black body brushed up against his leg, and he bent down to scoop her up and sit on the sofa with her in his lap.

"You'll never abandon me, will you?" he murmured.

The cat mewed and curled up on his lap, wrapping her tail around her body. Thomas scratched behind her ears, perfectly content as he settled back against the pillows. He heard the sound of the oven opening and knew Logan was keeping the pancakes warm; a few seconds later, the sound of bacon sizzling - and the smell of it - made his stomach growl. He opened his mouth to shout something, but Logan beat him to it.

"I put on the apron, just so you know!"

Thomas chuckled, then flushed at the thought of his muscular husband standing in the kitchen in nothing but pajama bottoms and an apron.

"We're going to be late to the party," he mumbled happily, and he got back up off the couch to join his husband.

 **o*o*o*o**

Daisy poured the tea from the pot into two matching mugs. As she inhaled the fragrant steam, she felt completely content. It had been a blissful, sleep-filled night for Laura, meaning that Daisy and William had also managed to catch up on rest. But her husband had woken her an hour earlier, his touch gentle and his kiss soft on her lips, and she hadn't complained in the slightest. It was Valentine's Day, after all.

She wrapped her light robe more tightly around her body, then grabbed the mugs and tiptoed back down the hallway to the bedrooms. A quick peek into the nursery showed Laura was still fast asleep. Daisy made it into the master bedroom, noting William's absence and realizing he'd ducked into the bathroom for a moment. She deposited a mug on each of their nightstands before slipping out of the robe and climbing back into their bed, pulling the sheet up over her bare chest as her husband returned.

"You've dressed," she commented.

"Just shorts," he replied, shedding them. "If the baby woke, I didn't want to not be prepared." He knelt on the bed and leaned over for a long, deep kiss from his wife, pulling away once they were both breathless. "Tea," he reminded himself. "You made tea."

"It's hot," Daisy whispered, reaching for him. "It should cool."

William whipped the sheet from his wife's body and his eyes took in the sight of her - _all_ of her, so familiar to him, so beloved by him that it captured his emotions in his throat.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered reverently, and he laid beside her and brushed his hand up and down her sides, gentle enough that it was more a comfort to her than anything of a sexual nature.

She rolled onto her side and tucked herself into his body, allowing his arms to encircle her and hold her safe.

"I love you so much," Daisy said. Her voice was clear and true, and William tucked her head under his chin and squeezed her more tightly.

"I know. Me, too," he replied. "Sometimes, on days like this, I wonder what I ever did to end up with such a perfect life. Beautiful, kind wife, amazing daughter, relatively healthy parents, secure employment. We're blessed, Daisy. We really are."

"I know." She felt a chill and reached for the sheet, pulling it up over them both. "I always used to wonder how I'd manage as a mother. I mean, I had good examples - Mam and your mum are amazing, and even my own mother was good to me when I was small, despite all her issues. I just had such a hard time when she died, and then again when we left the farm … I wondered if perhaps I would be better off on my own as an adult."

William held her, not replying, knowing her well enough by now to recognize that she had more to say when she was ready.

"I was wrong, though," she added. "It just took me a long time to be sure."

"To be sure of _me,_ " he clarified, but she surprised him and shook her head, rising up on her elbow so she could see his face.

"No," she whispered, brushing her fingertips over his lips. "To be sure of _me._ I was always sure of you, Will. You've been there for me since we were kids." She smiled a bit, her heart content. "I needed to be there for myself. Go to school, get a degree, a job I loved."

"And then you were ready for the rest," he nodded.

"I like to think so. It's hard, sometimes, when you're working at night and I'm exhausted and she won't stop crying. But then you come home, and it's all good again."

William rolled her onto her back, then leaned over and kissed her sweetly once more. "We really should get moving," he said with a sigh. "She'll be up soon, and we still need to pick up the gift."

Daisy smiled brilliantly at that. "That we do. Do you think he suspects?"

"Nope. According to my parents, he has no clue at all."

Daisy reached for her tea and sipped it tentatively, then took a bigger sip. "Good. Papa is hard to surprise, but I think we all came up with a good idea."

William agreed, then he laughed. "You know what I just thought of, Daisy? I wonder if he'll think his surprise is Juliet? She wasn't supposed to come home until tonight, but she's likely almost to the house by now."

Daisy smirked. "Let's hope they're decent."

"Oh, god, no kidding," William replied. "I don't think Juliet could handle walking in on _that_ ever again."

Just then, a coo sounded, and the baby monitor on the dresser lit up.

"Looks like the birthday girl is finally awake," William said. "You stay," he added, tossing Daisy her pajamas from where they'd been lying on the floor. "I'll bring her in."

Daisy quickly donned her pajamas and watched Will tug on his pants and head out the door. She settled back in the bed, wondering how fast the _next_ year of their daughter's life would speed by given how quickly the first one had flown.

 **o*o*o*o**

Bill reached for Beryl's hand and squeezed it. "The cake is perfect," he told her.

"You've already told me that twice," she reminded him gently, but he just chuckled.

"I'm just that proud of you, love," he said. "Two cakes in three days. You've still got it."

Beryl glanced in the back of the car, where the cake box was strapped in on the folded-down seats, cinder blocks forming the border that was holding it in place. She closed her eyes for a minute as she turned back to the front of the car, then opened them slowly.

"I still feel like everything is brighter now," she said. "Not only light, but the colors. I didn't realize how much I was missing out on. What a fool I was, waiting so long to have my eyes taken care of."

"T'was the babe that did it," Bill said knowingly. "I can't imagine you'd have gone too much longer not actually _seeing_ every little hair on her head as she grows up."

"That's the truth," she agreed. "I can't wait until _her_ party on Tuesday."

Bill stopped at a traffic light and lifted his wife's hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently, before taking the right-hand turn that would lead them to the function hall.

"So we'll set the cake up and have a couple of hours before everyone arrives," he said. "What would you like to do in the meantime?"

"I wouldn't say no to a quiet cuppa in the tea shoppe," she replied. "I'd hoped William would've had them all out of the house early, but doesn't look like that's happened." Beryl glanced at her phone, adding, "No message."

"You remember what it was like with a little one, don't you? Nothing ever runs on time until they're at least four, if I recall," he chuckled. "Besides, they still need to get to the airport."

"Very true. I still can't believe everyone'll be here. Charles is going to lose his mind. Although _Elsie's_ lost her mind if you ask me. That gift …"

"It's perfect, and you know it."

She pursed her lips. "I disagree. It's the _last_ thing he needs!"

"You didn't disagree when it was first brought up," Bill said quietly. But I know what you're trying to say, love." He relinquished her hand in order to change his grip on the wheel. "You'll see. I'm sure it'll all turn out fine."

Beryl looked out the window at the houses they were passing by. She'd never admit it, but buried very, _very_ far down at the bottom of her heart bloomed a tiny seed of jealousy.

 **o*o*o*o**

"Here you are, sir." The immigration officer handed Richard and Isobel their passports. "Welcome to the United States."

"Thank you," Richard replied. He tucked his passport into his bag and handed Isobel's to her, then they stepped aside and waited for Robert and Cora to catch up. It took a few minutes, given that their own officer was a bit more chatty.

"I'm glad that's done," Robert announced once they met up. "That never becomes easier, I swear."

"Oh, Robert," Cora chided gently. "It's not as if there was anything to be afraid of. Did you not sleep well on the way over?"

He looked at her with incredulity, then just sighed and shook his head. "I'm not _tired,_ Cora. I'm understandably nervous! Can you imagine if anything has happened? I won't be all right until we get to Daisy and William's and see that everything is fine."

The foursome headed to baggage claim, where their suitcases were thankfully among the first set to be sent down. Richard pulled them all off, and once everyone was settled and had taken it in turns to use the restroom facilities, Robert messaged the limo scheduled to pick them up.

"He's out in the cell lot," Robert explained, and he pointed to an exit. "Grey Cadillac SUV."

It took all of five minutes for them to meet up with their driver, who was coincidentally also named Robert. But the driver was taller, thinner, and about thirty years younger than the Crawley patriarch.

"Welcome to Boston, sir. Travel time to Maine is looking good. Light traffic and no bad weather ahead. You were smart to fly in this morning; storms coming tonight."

"Perfect," Robert said with a sigh. "Hopefully the rest of our party has arrived safe and sound."

"Oh, I have no doubt," the chauffeur replied. "I've dealt with that company once before, actually. Quality staff; you'll have had no trouble."

"Good." Robert climbed into the limo, with Cora right behind.

She smiled when she spotted the bar, and then she noticed when her husband eyed the whisky selection.

"It's nine in the morning, Robert," she chided. "Don't you even think about it."

Five minutes later, the party of four was on their way to Maine.

 **o*o*o*o**

"Just up there and to the right," Daisy directed, and William made the turn and pulled up to the curb.

"She's asleep," he said, glancing in the back seat, "so you should stay. She hasn't eaten in a while, and you know if she wakes up and you're not here, it'll be a disaster."

"True," Daisy agreed, fishing her wallet and some paperwork out of her purse. "Okay. Let's hope there wasn't some huge problem." She glanced at her watch. "We actually have a fighting chance of being to this party on time."

William watched as she headed inside the cargo building for the airport. He took a moment to calculate the time it would take them to get to the restaurant, realizing they might even beat Elsie and Charles if Elsie could delay him a few minutes. He slipped his phone from his pocket and sent her a quick text.

Ten minutes later, the doors to the building opened again. Daisy exited, followed immediately by - _Thank God,_ William thought - an airport employee pushing a small cart … upon which sat a medium-sized dog crate.

William got out of the car, a broad smile on his face.

"There she is," he cooed, peering into the crate. A small yellow tail beat happily against the side walls, and the dog yipped once.

"She's just been out to the yard and done her business," the airport attendant explained. "We fed her when she arrived, so she should be fine for your ride up. We don't advise feeding during a car ride, especially with such a young one who doesn't have much experience in an automobile. But she wasn't sick on the flight - slept the entire way, as puppies normally do."

"We've only got about a half hour ride to our house," Daisy explained, "and then about ten more to the party. She should be fine."

They moved the trolley closer to the back of the van, where William opened the door. "I've fixed a baby gate to the headrests," he pointed out. "Hopefully that keeps her away from the back seat."

The attendant glanced in, smiling approvingly. "That's perfect," he said. "And you've even got a bed and a little toy for her. She's a lucky one, indeed."

Daisy thought of what her Papa's reaction was going to be. "Oh, believe me ... you have _no_ idea."

 **o*o*o*o**

Elsie reached for Charles's hand as he locked up the car. "You're ready?"

"I'm somewhat ready, and very suspicious," he told her. "It's an odd choice of venue for a small luncheon party."

"Well, there's a reason for that," Juliet chimed in as she alighted from the car.

He raised his eyebrows. "And I suppose I'll find out the reason behind it all at some point?"

Elsie stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips. "You will. In about five minutes."

They made their way to the door, which Charles held open for his wife and daughter. Juliet gave their name at the front desk, and they were directed to the small function room down the left-hand hallway.

"Ready?" Elsie asked, smiling.

"I suppose."

Elsie swung the door open, where she, Juliet, and Charles were met with several voices shouting "Surprise!" followed immediately by a cry from Laura, whom Daisy was desperately trying to shush.

"Robert?!" Charles quickly crossed the room and gave a hearty hug to his oldest friend, who squeezed him back firmly before allowing Cora to do the same. "What on earth are you doing here? Richard? Isobel?"

Greetings were exchanged, and then Cora offered half an explanation.

"We're here for a month to see the family," she said. "But we also brought your birthday gift."

Charles was puzzled but Daisy approached him, distracting him with his granddaughter while Elsie and William fetched the puppy.

"And where are your uncles, hmm?" Charles tapped Laura on the nose, and she giggled, her face still reddened and her eyes damp from the crying fit she'd had just prior to everyone's arrival. "Have they made it here yet?"

"They haven't," Daisy said sadly, "but they'll be here soon. I think they hit traffic on the highway."

Elsie and William returned then, puppy in tow, and Elsie tapped her husband on the back.

"Charlie," she said softly, "Happy Birthday."

He turned, and his eyes became incredibly wide as his jaw dropped. He had the presence of mind to hand Laura off to Isobel before looking around at all of his family in turn.

"But that's … you … you flew it … It! It's a _him_ or a _her,_ isn't it? … Robert? _Elsie?_ "

"It's a her," Robert said with a laugh. "The only girl from our recent litter. She's four months old, and she's yours."

Charles crouched down and scratched the pup behind the ears. She sat down, then turned her head and mouthed the cuff of his shirt as everyone laughed.

"She's the reason we're here," Elsie told him, and she bent down beside him and placed a kiss to his cheek. "Bill found this place after searching high and low for one that would allow us to have a small dog here for the duration of the party."

Charles was momentarily ashamed for not having noticed the Masons' absence, but when he turned his head he spotted them by the food buffet table, where the Bateses and their boys were all assisting in some way.

"Elsie," he whispered, overcome with emotion.

She stood and extended her hand to him, helping him to stand. "Charlie?"

He drew her close, squeezing tightly as she tucked her head under his chin. He dropped a kiss to her head before relinquishing her to the rest of the crowd.

"Thank you, everyone," he said, his voice still a bit thick as he controlled his emotions. "And here I thought nothing could come close to _last_ year's birthday, but I am truly, truly grateful and _very_ surprised - happily so - that you all went through this kind of trouble."

"The girls and their families will be here soon, too," Cora said, pocketing her phone. "Mary will be gutted that she missed the surprise, but your little lady couldn't wait to meet her new Papa."

"And we couldn't take a chance that she wouldn't bark," Daisy added with a chuckle. She handed Charles a gift bag. "To get you started," she said as he peered at the leash and toys inside. "And she'll need a name."

Charles looked to Robert. "I'm going to do it. You know I am."

Robert laughed. "I do know. If I'm honest, it's one of the reasons we gave you the only girl."

William furrowed his brow, confused. "I'm lost."

"Robert always names his dogs after Egyptian gods and goddesses," Cora explained. "And Charles has - for about thirty years now - teased him about one name in particular."

"Which I've refused to use," Robert said seriously. "It doesn't fit."

"But you've run out of goddesses," Charles replied, nodding. "And I'm stuck with your problem."

"It's a good thing she knows you're teasing," Elsie said, petting the dog.

"So …" William began, still at a loss.

Charles reached down and picked up the puppy.

"She's heavy," Daisy cautioned, but Charles managed the weight just fine as the dog snuggled quite contentedly against his chest.

"Cleo," Charles said to William. "Her name is Cleo."

* * *

 **I'd love a wee review if you'd be so kind. Until next time! x**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Big thanks to everyone for your lovely reviews, especially the guests whom I cannot thank properly via private reply. Thanks for joining me once again, this time for some puppy love, grown-up love, and plans for the future.**

 **This story will continue at Christmastime, with a holiday chapter posted on or around Christmas Day to complete my #unofficialdas9 challenge on tumblr ... but who knows? Maybe I'll keep it open for a bit. If you have any requests, shoot me a message and I'll try my best to accommodate you.**

 **With much love to you all, and a heart full of thanks for all of you who have come to love Misty Cove as much as I do – particularly my very own AtF Wiki, who always has the answers for what I've forgotten. Bless.**

 **Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season.**

 **xxx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **February 17**_

Charles yelped as small teeth nipped at his toe, causing him to pull his knees up toward his chest, a feeble attempt given the determined nature of his current bedmate. He rolled over, now much more awake than he wanted to be after a late night up drinking with Robert, Bill, and Richard, and he heard his wife's amused chuckle.

"That's not very kind," he grumbled, but that only turned the chuckle into a full-fledged laugh. "It's too early to be mean to your husband."

"It's nine o'clock, dear," she retorted. "Plenty late enough for laughter. Besides, I'm rather enjoying watching my husband struggle with a pretty young thing under the sheets over there."

"Ha, ha, ha," was his reply, but he did sit up against the headboard. He lifted the blankets, peering underneath. "Alright, you. Job well done; I'm up. Come on out." He extended his fingers and wiggled them, then made a kissing sound with his lips. The bundle of blankets and sheets shook, and a few seconds later, Cleo emerged, tail wagging and tongue out as she smiled up at her owner. He drew her into his lap and she snuggled up against his chest, allowing him to lean down and place several kisses to her soft head as he squeezed her in a gentle hug.

"A man and his dog," Elsie teased as she joined them on the bed. She reached over and ruffled Charles's hair as though he were a small boy. "There's not much better than puppy cuddles, is there?"

"Well, wife cuddles aren't half bad." He waggled his eyebrows before leaning over for a sweet kiss.

"You got those last night," she mumbled against his lips.

"Did I?"

"You mean you don't remember?"

He appeared to be confused for a moment, but he couldn't maintain the ruse once she swatted at him. "Oh, yes. _Now_ I remember. It's all fuzzy, but there was something about a wife tucking my half-drunk self into bed and cuddling up before I passed out."

"Now you've got there," she replied with a satisfied smirk. "'Passed out' is a rather accurate description, although 'half-drunk' is a bit generous. I've not seen you drink that much in ages, Charlie."

"Wasn't the amount, I don't think." He scratched Cleo behind the ears, smiling as she curled up a bit more tightly and began to nod off. "We didn't really eat a proper dinner, just nibbly things that Beryl sent with Bill."

"Charlie, there's an empty bottle of brandy on the counter that was brand new last night, and three empty wine bottles beside it." She smiled, then leaned over and placed a kiss to his temple. "I don't mind, of course. It's just unusual for you."

"I suppose. Wonderful to see them again, though, to have them here for the week. It was a lovely plan you all cooked up, having everyone come here for my big day. Thank you, Els."

Elsie reached over and took his hand, rubbing her thumb over the back of it, over the familiar bumps and valleys of his knuckles and veins, the small spots that had appeared in the last couple of years. His hand was still as it rested in hers, a testament to medication and a sign that he'd gotten a very good night's sleep despite last night's late hour.

"I think we should see them more," she ventured, looking up and into his eyes. "Robert and Cora, Richard and Isobel. Go over once or twice a year now that we're all retired, I mean. Maybe they'd do the same if we all planned it out. Holidays, birthdays …" She paused, and his face softened at the wistful look on her own as she drew her lip under her teeth once again. "We're not getting any younger, are we?"

He thought about it, thought about Violet, to whom last night's conversation had turned at one point, when he and Robert had filled Richard and Bill in on some of the more interesting details of the Crawley matriarch's earlier life, and he thought of how much he and Robert _missed_ her, and about the guilt Charles had felt not being there with her at the end.

"Well, as you once reminded me, we're not _old,_ " he replied, squeezing her fingers. "But no, we aren't getting any younger." He reached his arm around her, pulled her close, and sighed with a mixture of melancholy and contentment as he watched her run the back of her slender fingers lightly over Cleo's fur. "Have you mentioned this to the ladies?"

She shook her head. "No, not precisely. We do all wish we lived closer together, but no one brought it up specifically. It's funny, really, how quickly we all became so close. Well, Beryl and Bill are a bit on the outside, I suppose, but it doesn't feel that way when we're all together. Isobel commented last night that the day I married you was they day we _all_ came together for good. It was a lovely thing to say."

"And dare I ask what else you discussed over Beryl's kitchen table?" he enquired with a smirk, which she returned in kind when she replied.

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to, Charlie," she warned playfully.

"Which means _what,_ precisely?" His interest was piqued now, and he was certain he knew in which direction this was headed.

Elsie sighed dramatically. "Sex, Charlie. We talked about sex. At _our ages._ "

He smirked. "Did you, now?"

"Of course. As I imagine you all did." She met his smirk with one of her own; a challenge, with her raised eyebrows daring him to deny it.

"Well!" he exclaimed, then he followed it up with a quieter, "Of course we did."

Elsie laughed outright at that. "I suspected as much."

He was quiet for a moment, wondering …

"Anything I should be worried about?"

"Not at all. Just the usual concerns. _Female_ ones, not concerns about you lot."

"Well, if it reassures you, we have our own set of worries."

She thought back to a few instances over the past year when things weren't … well, when their evening hadn't quite gone according to plan.

"I know you do. The good thing is we are four solid couples, with good marriages built upon decent communication and trust." She paused, mulling over the ladies' conversation the previous night. "We ladies all value that, you know. It helps tremendously to have a partner who is patient, kind, and willing to laugh a little. We're quite lucky, Charlie."

He squeezed her closer. "I'm the luckiest of all," he whispered.

 **oOoOoOo**

Two weeks later, barely a day after they'd managed to clear out from a huge snowstorm, Cleo had her first puppy training class - or rather, as Elsie would describe it, she and Charles had their first 'owner training class,' to which they had to bring Cleo. The hardest part of the entire experience was getting the poor girl into the car, because both Elsie and Cleo were slipping on the ice by the tailgate, neither able to gain enough traction to manage the task. Charles eventually pulled the car up a bit to a different part of the driveway, grumbling about how the young man they hired to take care of plowing and sanding had clearly not understood the words 'entire parking area.'

"Relax," Elsie soothed, resting her hand on his thigh as he drove away from the house. "I'm sure it was just an oversight."

"But you could have fallen!" he replied, still angry. "I'll need to have a word, I think."

"Best let it sit for a day," she advised. "Get yourself down to a reasonable level of upset. Maybe he ran out of sand? The poor lad's been out straight with this storm; they _all_ have. You know what it's like. Remember the year Tommy worked a plow for the town? Eighteen-hour days?"

"I didn't like that, either," he grumbled.

"You don't like _snow,_ " she reminded him.

"That's not true! It makes everything clean and beautiful-looking. It's _you_ who doesn't care for the winter all that much."

"You like it until it's dirty and icy, and then you hate it." She didn't say anything more after that. She didn't need to, because his silence was affirmation enough of the accuracy of her words.

They pulled into the parking for the training course, and Elsie was surprised to see so many other cars there.

"Must be full." She turned and peeked at Cleo, who was now standing in her crate in the back of the vehicle. "Are you ready to make some new friends?"

Cleo's tail wagged happily as she waited for her owners to release her. Elsie let Charles do the honors, handing him the leash when he opened the crate's small door.

He reached in and patted Cleo's head. "You're going to be the best-behaved girl there, aren't you? We discussed this earlier this morning, remember?" He took the leash from Elsie and clipped it to Cleo's collar. "Alright, then. Down you go."

Cleo stood tentatively at the edge of the tailgate, then jumped down and landed surely on the ground. She looked up at her Papa, quite pleased with herself.

"Good girl," he praised. "Shall we?"

They made their way in, and Elsie's ears were instantly assaulted by the sound of many puppies barking. She spotted the trainer, a middle-aged woman named Sharon, and gave a small wave.

"Elsie, Charles – good to see you!" Sharon pointed to a small hallway off the main training room. "You can drop your coats in there," she told them, "and then come and join the circle."

Charles looked around the room, noting with some discomfort that the average age of the owners had jumped dramatically the moment he and Elsie entered the room. He leaned down and murmured as much in her ear.

"Don't worry about it," she replied in a whisper. "It doesn't matter."

And it didn't. If anything, their previous experience as owners helped tremendously. Neither Max nor Scamp had gone through any official training, but Charles had suggested it for Cleo after seeing a flyer up on the tack board at the supermarket. It was different raising a puppy now that none of the kids were around to help, and Elsie had readily agreed to the idea. By the end of their first session, they and Cleo were exhausted, but Charles was proud of their progress.

"Consistency, that's the key," Sharon had advised. "Don't falter from your expectations. Cleo is a very smart girl, as I'm certain you've both already worked out. If she knows what to expect from you each and every time you give a command, you'll all be just fine." She held the door open for them, then closed it up tightly against the cold once the Carsons had passed through.

Elsie and Charles smiled at each other, and Elsie bent to scratch Cleo beneath the chin. "You did very well, love. Mummy's very proud of you."

Charles looked on, feeling his heart expand with love for the two beauties before him.

 _ **Much later ...**_

The fire crackled in the stove, and Elsie shifted on the sofa, resting her head on her husband's lap. Her new perspective enabled her to catch a glimpse of Cleo's empty bed under the coffee table, and a smile played about her lips as she remembered that Cleo had been relegated to the hallway earlier.

Charles sipped at his wine, his mind half-focused on the music playing softly from the speakers behind them. He trailed his fingers up and down his wife's unclothed arm, then rested his hand on her hip, completely at peace.

"It's been quite a while since we've not been able to make it to the bedroom," he said with no small amount of pride in his voice.

"Tonight reminds me of our first date," she said.

"We made it to the bedroom _then,_ " he reminded her, shifting his hand down so that it rested on her lower belly. He stretched out his fingers, scratching the wiry hair just below her abdomen, and she hummed happily.

"We did. But it all _started_ on the couch." She closed her eyes, somewhat sated from their lovemaking, and forced herself to stay awake for a while longer. "You reached for my hand," she remembered.

" _You_ reached for _mine,_ " he countered.

"Stop arguing with me," she retorted, and then she sighed, smiling as she stared sideways into the fire. "We _danced_. I was so nervous, Charlie. It's funny to think of that now."

"As was I. I don't know what possessed me that night, but whatever it was, I'm grateful."

"Me, too."

He slipped his hand over her thigh, prying her legs gently apart before lowering his hand between them, his fingers gently pressing against her and moving ever-so-slightly as he smiled down at her. He saw her brow furrow, listened as her breathing changed. She whispered his name and shifted, her legs parting a bit more as she pressed herself into his hand, then moaned loudly as one of his fingers slipped inside of her. She grabbed at his arm, squeezing it tightly, her nails digging into his skin as she came undone again under his masterful touch.

He watched as the pleasure rippled through her, saw each nuanced change of her expression, felt the way her back arched over his lap and how her body crashed back down onto his legs as she rode it out. Unwilling to withdraw from her just yet, he stayed, teasing her with soft flicks of his finger until she pushed gently on his arm.

"Too much, love."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you sure?"

Her smile was wide as she turned to look into his eyes, nodding. "You may need to carry me up those stairs, you know."

"I could manage it," he said. He moved a bit so that she could stand and stretch her back.

Elsie sat herself upright and took a couple of deep breaths. Then she stood, facing her husband.

"My legs feel as if they're made of jelly," she chuckled.

"I bet they do."

She climbed back onto the sofa, straddling his lap and steadying herself on his shoulders; her knees sank into the soft cushions of the sofa before she sat back on his legs.

"Better?"

She nodded. "Much. I can hold you now." She smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and resting his chin on her shoulder as she wrapped herself around his shoulders. She buried her nose in his mussed hair and caught the scent of his shampoo from his shower earlier that evening. "You smell nice," she told him, and she scooted herself closer, still sensitive and relishing the sensation as he brushed up against her. She felt him stir and looked at him, questioning.

"Charlie? Do you …?" But he shook his head.

"No. I believe you've fully exhausted this old body for one evening. Sorry, love."

"You'll hear no complaints from me," she told him, leaning back and grasping his face lightly, her fingers threaded through his hair as she kissed him. "You've attended to my needs quite well, husband."

He returned the kiss, opening her mouth with his and dancing his tongue across hers, enjoying the very familiar racing of his heart that that particular sensation always brought.

"We could sleep here," he suggested when they broke apart, but she shook her head.

"We'd never be able to move when we woke up," she reminded him. "Besides, the boys are coming over in the morning, remember? It would perhaps be best not to have them stumble upon us like this."

"Ah, yes," he remembered. "The legal paperwork."

Elsie rested her forehead against her husband's. "Charlie … do you not approve of it all?"

He was surprised by her words, and she felt his brow raise against her forehead. "On the contrary, I approve wholeheartedly! Whatever makes you think I wouldn't?"

She shrugged, then stifled a yawn. "You've not mentioned it much is all."

"I don't need to. You and the girls have been all aflutter about this for weeks."

"Well," she conceded, "that _is_ true."

"Elsie, I'm quite happy for them, and rather chuffed they asked me to be sure everything is on the up-and-up with the woman's own attorney." He smiled, thinking about their son and son-in-law, his mind a filmstrip of images from Tommy's childhood, of sweet scenes between him and Daisy and, later, Juliet, and of the small, beachfront wedding where Logan became a part of it all. "They'll make wonderful parents," he whispered into his wife's ear.

"They will, Charlie," she said. "I hope it all works out for them."

They sat like that for a few more moments, each lost in their own thoughts. But when Elsie shivered, Charles realized the fire had died down in the stove, and he nudged her.

"We really should go up," he said, and she agreed. She allowed him to help her off his lap, then extended her own hand to him and gave a tug as he rose from the sofa. She watched as he gathered their clothes and she added the blanket to the pile.

"Dump it all in," she instructed with another yawn, and he nodded, stopping on their way to the bedroom to toss the pile into the washer.

"Tomorrow," he said. "It can wait until tomorrow."

Charles couldn't take his eyes off of his wife as she prepared for bed. He watched as she pulled on a long nightgown and brushed out her hair and only left her side to return downstairs with Cleo, who'd indicated that she had to go out once more before bed.

"Good girl," he praised the pup as they stood on the beach. He allowed her leash to extend fully from its handle, grateful Elsie had talked him into one of the retractable kinds so that Cleo could run around a bit without them having to do the same. Cleo frolicked a bit in the snow-covered sand before finding a spot to do her business, and Charles looked out over the ocean.

Elsie watched the scene from the upstairs window, cozy and warm in their bedroom. Her eyes welled and she wiped at them, annoyed at her emotions for continuing to wreak havoc on her at the most inconvenient of times.

"You _are_ getting older," she told herself. She thought she'd been past all of the emotional things that comprised menopause, but every now and again her hormones and body got the better of her. Her emotions were certainly heightened _now,_ no doubt due to her husband's skilled attentions from before.

She was half-asleep in bed when he returned, and she watched through fatigue-laced eyes as he stripped away the coat and pajama pants he'd donned for the trip outside and slipped on warmer, drier pants before climbing into bed beside her. He switched off the bedside lamp, and Elsie opened her arms so that he could tuck himself in.

"You're warm," he murmured happily, burying his face in her neck, his cold nose making her shiver.

"I _was_ warm _,_ " she teased, squeezing him. "All set?"

"All set. Business done, cookie obtained, and likely already asleep in her crate." He scooted down a bit and rested his head on her breast.

"I love you, Elsie," he whispered into the darkness of the room. "More than anyone ever has."

She tipped her head and kissed him on the temple. "I love you back."

* * *

 **As always, a small review would make my day! Thanks so much for being here. x**


	6. Welcome Home for Christmas

_**December**_

Elsie was just frosting the last of the gingerbread cookies when she heard Daisy's minivan pull up the drive. She peeked out the window and smiled broadly as she watched her daughter attempt to wrangle Laura who, overly excited at seeing both Cleo and her grandparents, was having trouble understanding that in order to catapult herself out of the seat, she first had to settle enough to allow her Mum to undo the buckle.

"Cleo!" Laura's shout made its way to the house, and Elsie smiled at the dog as she sought permission from her owner.

"Go on, then," Elsie told her, shooing her toward the doggie door. Cleo bounded through and raced to Laura, but stopped short a few feet before the toddler and allowed Laura to approach _her_ instead. Laura threw her arms around Cleo's neck and squeezed, and Elsie was proud to see that the dog didn't even flinch at the tightness of the girl's grip.

"Come on! It's freezing out here," Daisy told them, sending both canine and granddaughter in to see her Mam. Elsie met them at the door, kissing Daisy on the cheek before scooping her granddaughter up for a hug and a kiss.

"Are you excited for today, love?" Elsie whispered, and Laura nodded.

"Bear!" she shouted.

"Bear," Elsie agreed, nodding.

Daisy watched this exchange, shaking her head. "You're completely mad," she said aloud. "You do know this."

"Well," Elsie replied, "someone has a bit of wrapping to do, as I recall." She winked at her daughter, who nodded.

"I do, but Mam - it's three days until Christmas. That mall will be an absolute zoo."

"I know, I know." Elsie waved her hands back and forth in the air.

"You look just like Papa when you do that."

Elsie looked at Laura and threw her hands up into the air, winked, and sighed dramatically, and Laura laughed - which in turn made the ladies follow suit.

"You're in a good mood today," Elsie told her, ruffling Laura's tiny ponytails, "so I suppose that's a good start."

Daisy pulled the diaper backpack onto the counter and unzipped it. "There are three teethers in the cooler pouch," she explained as she dug through the contents. "Also some of those biscuits she likes, a juice, and a water. She's just eaten, but I don't count on you being back at a reasonable hour, so there's a bottle in there, too. The coffee shop will give you hot water if you ask and need to heat it. There's a cup in here somewhere for them to put that in, so you don't have to buy one."

Elsie smirked. "Anything else?"

"Nothing wrong with being prepared," Daisy deadpanned, her voice a very good imitation of her father's.

"Now who's acting like Papa?" But Elsie's eyes were smiling, and she drew Daisy into a hug.

"Hug!" Laura yelled from her spot by the chair, and Elsie pulled her up into the mix.

"Group hug!" she shouted, and with a wink from Daisy, Elsie and her daughter both reached over to tickle Laura's belly, causing the girl to erupt into a fit of giggles while her mother kept a tight hold around her.

"Go on, then," Daisy said, putting Laura down and letting her recover. "If you don't get there before ten, you'll never even get _in_ the place! Oh, and I left the stroller over by the garage."

Elsie looked at her granddaughter and held out her hand, which Laura snatched onto immediately, eyes alight with excitement.

"Don't forget the bag," Daisy reminded them, sliding the backpack over to her Mam.

"I'm not going to forget the _bag,"_ Elsie muttered with a small roll of her eyes. She slung it over her other shoulder, grabbed her keys and purse, and made her way to the door.

"Everything you need is in the closet in the library," Elsie said on her way out the door. "There's enough wrapping in there for _next_ Christmas, too, I'd wager."

"You've not seen what's in the back of my van," Daisy replied with a laugh. "See you soon! Text before you leave."

"Will do!"

Elsie opened the garage and unlocked the truck. Laura rushed over to the back door and reached to open it, but she was much too short.

"I'll get it, love." Elsie opened the door for the girl, who scrambled up and into her spot as Elsie deposited the diaper bag on the front seat, accessible in the likely event that a snack was requested during the twenty-minute ride to the mall.

"Here we are, now." She returned to Laura and fished the belts out from under the girl's bottom. She was eternally grateful that Charlie had purchased an extra car seat for her truck when they'd bought them for the kids' vehicles, unable now to imagine standing out in the cold and wrangling Daisy's into her back seat with Laura waiting impatiently.

"Good girl," she praised her, kissing Laura's forehead. "Are we going to have fun today?"

"Bear!" Laura shouted again, and Elsie laughed.

"Bear. Yes. We'll see what we can find for him, hm?"

Laura smiled, then reached for one of the toys beside her on the seat. Elsie picked it up for her and switched it on, watching Laura's interest as she looked at the different buttons that lit up and played music.

"You play with that while I'm driving, alright? Keep a tight hold on it," she reminded the girl.

By the time Elsie got the stroller into the truck and got herself buckled into the driver's seat, the toy had hit the floor. She shook her head and retrieved it, handed it back to Laura, and gently warned, "I won't be able to do that when I'm driving, so hold on tightly!"

The toy stayed securely in Laura's hands until Elsie was about a mile from home. She shook her head and glanced over at the diaper bag, into which Daisy had packed a small army of stuffed animals. She reached for a small one and handed it to Laura.

"Fwed," Laura said carefully.

"Fred _Two,_ " Elsie clarified. "But yes … Fred."

Laura kissed him on the head. "Mumma wuff Fwed."

Elsie smiled at her granddaughter in the mirror, and felt her own heart swell. "Yes," she whispered. "Your Mumma loved Fred very, very much."

* * *

As expected, the mall parking was teeming with vehicles. Elsie took a couple of deep breaths and waited as a young couple pulled out of their spot, which was miraculously close to the entrance, and parked in the place they left. She glanced at the clock: _9:57._

"A Christmas miracle," she muttered. "Only half a million people here before ten."

She got Laura out of the truck and into her stroller, then locked up.

"Twee!"

Elsie turned to see Laura pointing up at a green tinsel tree affixed to the lamp post in the parking lot. A glance around told her that each post had a tree of one of three colors: red, green, and gold.

"I didn't even see that, you know. Thank you for pointing it out." She leaned over, and Laura planted a kiss to her cheek.

"Wuff you," Elsie whispered.

"Wuff YOU!" Laura shouted back, and Elsie couldn't help but laugh. She handed Fred Two to the girl, who tucked him safely into the seat beside her.

"Here's your water," Elsie said, handing her the cup. "Don't drop it!"

And, with that, they crossed the road and headed into the mall. Elsie's heart clenched for a moment as they passed Spencer's, knowing by now that it had been where Thomas first was when he started out on the evening of the shooting. But she'd been to the mall countless times since then and had overcome most of her fears, and the fact that it was full of happy shoppers and Christmas music helped, too. She looked around as they made their way to her destination, noticing the huge red and silver Christmas balls suspended in garlands from end to end over the mall walkway, and the trees and other delights in each shop's display window.

After a few minutes of dodging shoppers and one stop to retrieve Fred Two from the floor, Elsie made it to their destination.

"They're not as busy as I thought," she told Laura. "Shall we?"

She pushed the stroller into Build-A-Bear, and was instantly greeted by a cheerful employee dressed as an elf. The man - whom Elsie pegged at about twenty years old - immediately focused on Laura. It was a wise move, because the girl was enraptured by his ears.

"Are you here to make a special friend for someone?"

"Bear!" Laura shouted, and then, after another moment, "G'ampy Bear."

"Oooh," the elf replied brightly, "a bear for your Grampy? Well, now, I'm sure we can do that!"

He led them to the bear-making portion of the store, where Elsie spotted all of the things she remembered from years ago: stuffed animal skins in various colors, the fluff stuffing machine, the wish tokens, and myriad accessories and clothing options. It was overwhelming, and she was grateful again that the store wasn't too busy.

"You start with the kind and color of animal you want," said the elf, whose name tag indicated that his name this month was evidently _Kringle._ "Bear, I presume?"

"Bear," Laura confirmed.

"How old are you?" he asked, looking at Laura but then up at Elsie.

"She's nearly two," she replied.

"Talking really well," Kringle commented. "My niece is two and a half and just getting there now."

He turned his attention back to Laura. "We have all different colors of bears here. Black, dark brown, white, grey …" He pointed to each one, but Laura reached for the white one as soon as she saw it.

"White it is," Elsie said. "Just like his hair," she added under her breath, smirking.

Kringle brought them over to the bear stuffing machine and got them all set up. He had Elsie select a wish charm to place inside of the bear, and she crouched down to Laura and handed it to her.

"Give it a kiss and a hug," she explained. "It'll go inside the bear, so whenever Grampy hugs it, it'll be _your_ kiss and hug the bear can give him in return. Okay?"

Laura kissed the charm delicately, then tucked it beneath her chin and squeezed it into a hug. She then handed it back to Elsie, who passed it along.

"That's a very good hug," Kringle commented with a wink. "Your Grampy will be able to get a lot of love from you when he hugs his special bear."

Once the bear was stuffed, he handed it to Elsie. "Alright, now comes the really difficult part. You need to pick out clothing for it."

"Actually," Elsie said, reaching into her handbag and pulling out a photograph, "we may luck out in that department."

"Not your first rodeo here, I see," Kringle laughed.

"No. We brought our youngest daughter here about a million years ago, and I knew it hadn't changed much."

She handed the photo to Laura and pointed to Charles. "Now, can we find what Grampy is wearing here?"

Laura looked at the clothing, then at the picture. Elsie held up various options - it was, after all, really meant to be Laura's choice, although Elsie did hope they'd end up with something resembling the picture and not the rainbow tutu that she'd just touched. But Laura didn't disappoint; when Elsie showed her the tuxedo, Laura laughed.

"This one?" Elsie asked, and Laura reached for it.

"You lucked out there," Kringle commented. "You can bring this and any shoes or other accessories you like over there," he pointed to a counter in the back, "and Mindy will help you out."

Elsie smiled warmly at him. "Thank you so much … _Kringle_. You've made this a much easier process than I expected."

"You're more than welcome," he replied. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you."

Elsie and Laura selected some shoes for the tuxedo and managed to deftly steer the stroller away from the accessories before Laura could decide her Grampy Bear needed a necklace, crown, helmet, or anything else.

"Here we are." She placed the items at the register counter, and Mindy offered to dress the bear.

"Please," Elsie agreed gratefully, and they watched as the tuxedo was expertly slipped onto the bear and shoes put on his feet.

Elsie paid, and she was happy to see that Laura seemed content drinking her water and munching on a biscuit on her stroller tray, meaning the bear could stay safely in its box house until they got it home.

"You did a very good job," Elsie praised her granddaughter when they got back to the car. "Grampy will love his new bear, and he may let you play with it when you come over."

Laura yawned, and Elsie strapped her into her car seat, taking a moment to wipe the girl's face with a cloth before closing the door and texting Daisy.

 _We're already finished! You?_

 _Nearly there. I'll be fine by the time you're back. Okay to leave them in the closet?_

 _Of course. See you. X_

Five minutes down the road, Laura was fast asleep. Elsie glanced over at the front seat, saw the white tuft of fur peeking out of the bear house window, and smiled.

 _He's going to love it_ , she thought. _It just needs a couple of finishing touches ..._

* * *

Christmas Day dawned snowy and cold. Elsie stretched and yawned widely, then rolled onto her side and reached for her husband. She wrapped her arm around him and snuggled up against his chest, placing a kiss to his heart.

"Good morning, love," she whispered. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." He reached down for a kiss. "It's a miracle none of the kids are up yet."

"Juliet is up," Elsie replied. "I heard her making coffee, bless her heart."

Charles squeezed her, and Elsie rested her head on his chest. "This is my favorite day of the year, I think, because they all come home. Even Daisy and William this year."

"I can't wait to see what Laura makes of all the gifts," Elsie replied. "I know she's a bit young to understand it all, but she'll be shocked when she sees how they've all materialized overnight. We'll have to get a video to send the rest of the family."

"I think Logan is in charge of that, actually."

"Good."

They spent a few moments enjoying the peace and quiet, and then the smell of frying bacon made its way into their room.

"Oh, that's got to be Thomas," Elsie murmured gratefully. "Thank god."

"He always did like a good Christmas breakfast," Charles said. "I suppose we should."

They got up and slipped robes over their pajamas, took turns in the bathroom, and headed downstairs, hand in hand.

"Merry Christmas, Tommy," Charles said to his son, who left the stove long enough to hug his Papa.

"Merry Christmas. Waffles are in the oven keeping warm, bacon is done, and Juliet's made enough coffee for an army."

"So, basically, for her and us," Elsie laughed, kissing her son's cheek. "Logan asleep?"

"Of course. Although I can't complain; he was the one up until two helping to get Laura to sleep so Daisy and Will could get all the gifts under the tree. I was asleep by ten."

"Teamwork makes the dream work," Juliet piped in. "You'll need that when Shelby has the baby."

Thomas's smile was wide, and he nodded. "We will," he said softly. "Our beautiful baby boy. I can't wait."

Elsie patted his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Four months," she said. "Next Christmas, a new stocking over the fireplace."

"If it fits," Thomas chuckled, glancing out into the living room.

"I'll make it fit," Charles said softly, and he caught his son's glance. Thomas tilted his head, too overcome to reply aloud.

"Okay, I'm starving," Juliet said, never one for a heavy mood in the room. "Who's with me?"

"Me for sure," Elsie replied, and she hugged her girl. "Merry Christmas, love. I'm so glad you're home."

"Me, too."

As soon as the first round of breakfast had been consumed, Thomas refilled the waffle dish and put some more bacon on to cook. Before long, Logan, Will, and Daisy were up, and as soon had Daisy poured her tea, they heard Laura on the monitor.

"I texted your Mum about twenty minutes ago," Elsie told William. "They'll be here any minute."

"I'll get the camera," Logan said, dashing back up the stairs to retrieve it.

He made it down just in time to set up the tripod and set the camera to record.

"I always like to see that," Charles said.

"A proper camera; I know," Logan said, smiling. "I do it for you," he added with a laugh.

"Surely that's not true," Charles replied.

"No, it's not, sadly. I do it so I'm not focused on my phone when I'm trying to pay attention to what's going on," Logan explained.

Beryl and Bill arrived just at that moment, and Elsie rushed them in with hugs and kisses while Charles brought in a tray with tea and coffee.

"Breakfast is warming in the oven," he told Bill, "but it may have to wait because they'll be down any moment."

"Thank you," Bill replied, relieving Charles of two of the cups and pouring for himself and Beryl. "And that's fine."

As everyone was seated, Daisy, Will, and Laura appeared. The adults rounded the corner first, and then Laura followed.

The look on her face was _priceless._ Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the gifts, the lights on the tree, and then she turned and noticed her grandparents seated on the sofa.

"Bee!" she shouted, running into Beryl's arms. "Poppa!"

"Merry Christmas, little one," Beryl said, tearful as she pulled the girl onto her lap so she and Bill could squeeze her and plant kisses all over her cheeks.

Laura scrambled down almost instantly and approached the tree. She looked over all the gifts, then looked up at her mother and clapped gleefully.

"Santa's come and left you some things," Daisy told her. She sat on the floor beside her daughter, and Logan adjusted the camera slightly to take in the entire scene. He returned to Thomas's side, smiling and resting his head on Thomas's shoulder, their arms loosely around each other's waist.

"This'll be us soon," Thomas whispered, and he felt Logan nod.

"I know."

They watched as Daisy handed Laura a gift and helped her open it. Inside was a toy farm, quite similar to one Daisy had as a small child. Laura kissed the horses, but then quickly discarded the farm and reached for another gift.

"So typical," Charles chuckled. "We'll see how many she gets through before she's bored."

"And just wants to play with the bows," Will added.

Laura ended up opening seven gifts. But the seventh was a set of puffy, plastic-paged books meant for the bathtub, and she was instantly enthralled. She plopped down on the floor and sat with them, looking through all of the pages and engrossed in each and every picture.

"You lot go and eat," Thomas told the others, sitting by his niece. "I'll watch her."

Beryl and Bill, Daisy and William, and Logan did as they were told.

"Are you going to shut that off?" Charles asked Logan, pointing to the camera.

Logan looked back into the room at Thomas, who was giggling with Laura as they poked at the ferocious beast who was scaring the lovely lass in the book in Laura's lap.

"No," he whispered. "I think I'd rather like to keep it on, actually."

* * *

Dishes were loaded into the washer and the kitchen was cleaned up. The adults all gathered in the living room once again, where Logan and Thomas handed out the rest of the gifts. Amidst squeals of delight and kisses and hugs of thanks, Laura sat contentedly by the fire, occasionally patting Cleo, who was curled up and mostly asleep throughout the excitement.

"Bear!" Laura shouted, suddenly remembering, and she looked up at Elsie.

"Come on and get it, then," Elsie told her, and she helped Laura to reach for the large blue gift bag that had been hidden behind the tree. "Go on," she said. "Give it to him."

Laura toddled over to Charles and handed him the bag.

"Is that for me?" he asked.

"I bet you'll never guess what's inside," Elsie teased.

"Not a clue," he replied with a smile, reaching into the bag. He pulled out the box containing his tuxedo-clad bear, now complete with a few additions that Elsie had sewn onto it: bushy grey eyebrows and hair, and a small pocket watch chain on the waistcoat. As he lifted it from the "house," there were chuckles and outright laughter around the room.

"Oh, my," Beryl said gleefully. "I wonder who that's supposed to be?"

"It's adorable," Will said, and echoes of similar sentiments were heard in the room.

But Charles only had eyes for Laura and the bear. He reached for the girl, pulling her onto his lap and giving her a gentle hug.

"Did you make this for me?" he asked, his eyes wide with delight, and she nodded. She reached for the bear and gave it a hug.

"Aww. She's recharging it," Juliet said, and she shared a sweet glance with her father. "Do you remember?"

Charles thought back to the well-loved bear sitting up in Juliet's room, the one that despite several redecorating events and the packing up of other toys had never been tossed aside.

"I do," he answered quietly, turning his attention back to his granddaughter. "And now we have a _new_ bear to love on, don't we?"

"Gwampy Bear," Laura said, kissing its ear. She looked at the bear, then looked up at Charles and gently touched his eyebrows.

"Precisely," Elsie agreed.

Charles looked at her and reached for her hand. She took his in her own, squeezing it and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

"Alright, then?" she asked quietly.

"Perfectly alright," he replied, his voice thick.

Elsie looked over at the others, realizing that she and Charles - and Laura and the bear - had become the center of attention.

"Well, go on, then," she said to them all. "Take down those stockings and let's see what's inside of them!"

Everyone got up to refill drinks and hand out stockings, and Charles leaned over Laura's head and kissed Elsie gently on the lips.

"Merry Christmas, love."

"Merry Christmas," she replied against his lips. "Gwampy Bear."

He smiled, and Laura - sleepy after her morning activity - snuggled against his chest.

"Indeed."

* * *

 **A/N: This Christmas chapter comes with so many nods to lovely friends, and with best wishes to all for a very Happy and Healthy New Year. My thanks go out to chelsie fan, who put together this little unofficialdas9 challenge for us as a way to try and fill the void that the lack of new DA episodes has left, and to Hogwarts Duo, who read this through for me prior to publication.**

 **I'm assuming most of you have seen the "Carson bear" that was up for a charity auction, so this chapter fulfills a request to work that into this story. Anyone who's been to a Build-A-Bear or had to wrangle a car seat into the back of their own vehicle (as I've had to do for my niece, once) will appreciate those little tidbits as well.**

 **I'd love a wee review if you'd be so kind. Here's hoping you've all had a lovely holiday season. xxx**


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